


Repaired and Reloved

by Redonkadonk



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Friends, Domestic Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, What-If, ah yes my personal sin, what if a lot of different shit happened tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22110982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redonkadonk/pseuds/Redonkadonk
Summary: Two trains, abandoned in the middle of the biggest event of the year, find comfort amidst picking up the pieces of their shattered lives and hope for the uncertain future.
Relationships: Dinah/Rusty (Starlight Express)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic on the backburner since early 2017, and it was supposed to be smut this whole time.
> 
> I can't do smut. I ain't got the heart for it. But I do have the heart for breaking up canon pairings for sad times.

_ This day could’ve gone so much better, _ Dinah thought to herself.  _ I was the queen of the yard, with Greaseball by my side as the king _ . Earlier, she felt like she was on cloud nine, high on excitement for the championship race. But now those feelings had been uprooted and shredded to bits.   
  
She started the day as partner to the champion diesel engine, ready to beat contenders with a dainty well-manicured-and-polished fist. But then her king dumped her by the tracks after she made a complaint of his cheating tactics (not that she ever minded before, she reasoned), and then to make things worse, her best friend Pearl decided to up and saddle with him for the final! Pearl, of all coaches! The coach that fawned the most over the superstar entry, the electric train Electra.   
  
The betrayal stung to Dinah’s core, even more so when before the two exes left the area, Pearl coldly told her: “It’s only fun, so quit crying!”   
  
She tried to keep a brave face, even as her friends Ashley and Buffy came to her side asking what was wrong. Sure, she’s been uncoupled, but she’ll persevere on! Okay, so she cried afterwards, but she’s stronger than that! And someone else would pick her as their partner for sure! Or so she thought, the dining car wryly reminded herself. But just as she had been flying on the wings of hope, someone came and ripped those wings right from her; namely, it was that snooty messenger of Electra’s that did it. He came with a message, it was an invitation to race with him! Dinah was so ready to do it!   
  
“Not you, diner. He wants the buffet car.”   
  
It was like a bolt of lightning had struck her. But she held her tongue. Buffy was of second class, along with Ashley, but they were two of Dinah’s dearest friends. So as Buffy whooped and hollered about getting to race with such a fancy high-tech engine, Dinah sulked in a feeling she wasn’t familiar with.   
  
Its name was loneliness.

* * *

Rusty sat on the deck near the coal tower, refueling as he mulled over the day’s events. He’d been excited to take part in the day’s races, but had been encountering obstacles from the very beginning.   
  
He was ready to take on the day, ready to prove that steam was not out of the game yet! But in seconds of the championship starting, Rusty had lost both his partner and his slot in the first heat. He’d been content (in a bitter sense of the word) with sitting out the rest of the day now that Pearl was no longer an option, but in what was possibly the second worst possible thing that could’ve happened that day, Poppa took an open slot in the second heat and overworked his boiler pulling Dustin - and winning the heat. With no one else to turn to, the young steamer reluctantly agreed to take his place in the final when Poppa called upon him to finish what he started. Caboose offered his assistance, a gesture Rusty appreciated when everyone else seemed to be against the steam train racing in the first place, but deep down Rusty couldn’t look away from the worry that had tied itself up in his pipes. He didn’t know if he could stand racing against Pearl; his mind kept replaying a nightmare he’d had of losing in a horrific crash that would wreck him beyond belief.   
  
“You alright there, boy?” Poppa rounded a stack of crates, Caboose coupled on behind him. “You don’t look so good..”   
  
“I’m fine,” Rusty lied. There was no beating around the bush that he was nervous about his chances. He didn’t really have a chance to ask anyone else about racing with him, and he’d heard a few rumors about the brake truck that made him anxious.  _ Maybe he wouldn’t do wrong against me _ , he hoped. They’d been pretty close among the freight, roughly being about the same age, and had managed to bond during training despite Caboose coming in as a late arrival.   
  
“Poppa figured we should talk over our strategy for the race.” Caboose pushed the bill of his hat up with his thumb. “We don’t have much time left before Control calls race time.”   
  
Rusty agreed, though it didn’t settle the upset in his boiler as they left to iron out their plans for the race. Hard as he tried to ignore it, something wasn’t sitting right with him.

* * *

“Can you believe he chose to take Buffy for the final?” Ashley sat beside Dinah and Flat-top as they waited for the race to begin. The brick truck had roped the two coaches into joining him on what he considered the best spot for race-watching; in reality, it was the best spot for flirting with coaches out of sight from the track seats. But he hadn’t counted on attempting a hookup with a confused smoking car and her emotionally distraught dining car friend.   
  
“Maybe ‘e’s jus’ lookin’ to fly by the others,” Flat-top countered, having already sat through several rounds of the same conversation already. “Y’know they just nab you girls ‘cuz ya all are just the bare essentials! All looks and no weight, y’see.”   
  
“If that’s the case, then why didn’t he nab Dinah here?! She’s a good size smaller than Buffy is, and jabbers less too!” While she appreciated the concern, Dinah wasn’t invested in her friend’s tirade. Her mind was still stuck on the fear that no one wanted her anymore. Thoughts zoomed through her mind even as the announcement called out for the final race to start in two minutes.   
  
But as the emotions nagged at her mind, Dinah found herself focusing in on some of the racers as they sailed past. There went Pearl, holding her coveted spot behind Greaseball, who looked just as confident as ever. Electra glided by with ease, with Buffy right behind; a giddy little grin was still plastered on her face. Dinah had almost zoned back out when she finally focused on the steamer coming last out of the tunnel. Rusty had always been a dear friend to her, almost like a brother of sorts. Of course, they grew out of some of that closeness as they blossomed into adulthood, and like the other coaches, she had reservations about his racing abilities, especially with the rust that interfered with his motions. But still she cared for him, and wished him luck as he rolled by, a look of excitement in his eyes as he neared the starting gate. Caboose was behind him as well, and caught Dinah’s eyes as they came past, saluting the coach with a smile on his face. “At least he’s got someone to help him,” Dinah murmured to herself.

* * *

As the gate’s lights flashed on and the sirens began wailing, the crowds began to cheer; an almost deafening roar sounded over the race track. The overhead voice of Control echoed into the ears of the racers, but Rusty couldn’t hear it over the nagging in his mind. Something nibbled at him, insistently telling him something was wrong. He glanced back at his partner, wondering if maybe he’d made a poor decision, but Caboose only smiled back, his eyes silently telling him that nothing was wrong. It calmed him for a moment, and finally he heard the booming voice overhead counting down to the start of the race.   
  
_ 3... 2... 1... _ And they were off. To the other racers’ surprise, Rusty started off well, managing to keep up with the others much better than the others thought he would. They each raced along the track, over bumps and dips in the track, through tunnels and under bridges.  _ Go faster, keep going _ , Rusty replayed in his mind as the trains sped along the tracks. He pushed himself to raise the limits he’d set in practice, confident that Caboose was aiding him as they zoomed towards the overpass. Speeding up the narrow ramp to the platform, each of the teams made it almost effortlessly over the way (save Buffy, who nearly tripped on the bump entering the overpass).   
  
“This is it,” Rusty called behind him as they neared the platform, “we can make it now!” Adrenaline pumped through his pipes. He was really doing this, he was racing!  _ I can do this _ , he thought to himself _ , I CAN do this! _ ! But as they sped towards the exit of the overpass, a sudden jolt shook Rusty from his thoughts. Another jolt. A turn. And a shove. Before Rusty could register the wind rushing past him, something hit him hard, and everything went black.

* * *

Dinah had been only vaguely interested in what was going on when the race started, but as the scene unfolded before the audience, her attention snapped from mild disinterest to hypnotized gaze, and her emotions morphed from surprise to horror: Rusty had just been thrown from the overpass and was now laid still on the sidelines. Back on the platform stood Caboose, a maniacal look on his face as he laughed in a way that sent chills through the dining car’s framework.   
  
“Did that really just happen??” Ashley sat nearby, stopped short of trying to light a cigarette. “Please tell me it didn’t-”   
  
“Ohh, ‘at happened alright,” Flat-top affirmed, himself a little unnerved by what had just happened. “Gotta hand it to 'Boose, man… Guy did damn good keepin’ that crazy inside.”   
  
Damn good alright, Dinah practically screamed in her mind. Only hours earlier had Caboose been at her side earlier, comforting her after Greaseball uncoupled her without a second to process it. Sweet Caboose.  _ Kind _ Caboose. A friend to  _ everyone _ . And here he was now, in what had to have been the sneakiest of tricks with Greaseball or Electra or whoever to get Rusty out of the race!   
  
Dinah blinked back tears as she realized just how bad the steamer’s situation was. Rusty had been a very dear friend of hers, but she’d laughed along with the others when he started claiming he would win the final. And now he was laid off to the side in a wide dip beside the track, clearly in pain and without any pride as well. She pretended not to hear Ashley calling out as she rushed away from the area.

* * *

“You’re no engine, you’re no engine!” 

The shrill taunts echoed in Rusty’s head as he tried to pick himself up off the side of the tracks. Every joint and bearing ached in pain as he slowly moved, and the steamer was horrified to find that his left leg was without feeling, scrapes and tears running up and down his work uniform. His shoulder joint felt as though it had been twisted out of place, and his head pounded in anger at the impact of the fall.   
  
But what hurt him the most was when the other racers came to see what had happened. Greaseball arrived with his gang, and soon Electra arrived with his entourage in tow. They all laughed, said they knew he wouldn’t make it. Caboose was basking in the beauty of his double-crossing. Pearl and Buffy soon arrived as well, and Rusty had hoped that Pearl would realize just how awful all of this was. She was shocked to find that the brake truck was so ill-intending, but she didn’t seem to falter when Greaseball told her, “this is what happens when you disrespect the champion!”   
  
Rusty tried to look to Pearl, to plead with her that this wasn’t the type of engine someone so sweet as her should be with.   
  
“We warned you, Rusty. You shouldn’t have raced.”   
  
She didn’t rush to his side. She didn’t threaten to tell the marshalls. She didn’t even look at him... She looked  _ away _ from him. And taking her place behind Greaseball, Pearl skated away without a glance or call back. And as Electra and his posse gloated about the downfall of the steam engine, all Buffy could do was hand his helmet back to him before she left, remorse in her voice as she only repeated what he’d heard all his life. “They’re right, y'know… You can’t beat them, Rusty, not in your shape… You’ll never beat them.”   
  
His body ached as he pulled himself up from the ground. His dignity was shattered as he made his way from the racetracks to the freight yard. He couldn’t do much but object only once when the Rockies jeered at him for losing the race. For believing he even had a chance of winning, the world played a cruel game and snatched away the smallest glimpse of a silver lining he had to this wretched day.   
  
Now he sat in the freight yard, away from the lights of the race track, where he knew with a broken heart that his coach would likely win with the diesel that didn’t deserve her. _Besides_ , the steamer bitterly mused, _Greaseball could’ve had his pick of other girls, especially some that didn’t already have a partner! He already had his partner anyway, so why’d he have to take his only one..._   
  
“Rusty?”   
  
It was soft, like a whisper. But it hardly registered to him.   
  
“Rusty, are ya here??”   
  
He didn’t know why anyone would be out looking for him now. After that failure of a race, everyone would likely be laughing at him now-   
  
“Rusty!!”   
  
His name rang out clear as day, despite the softness of the one speaking. Rusty hesitantly turned to look behind him. “... Dinah?” The dining car stood by the wall of the freight yard, her usually cheerful expression replaced by a look of pure worry and fear. Her hair and makeup, always done to the point of perfection, was now wild and messed, tear-streaked and running. She was panting heavily... Had she raced over here? “Dinah.. W-what are you doing here?”   
  
“Rusty...” Dinah sobbed. She felt scared, and somehow, she felt responsible for this. As she gazed Rusty over, seeing his injuries in person, tears once more welled in her eyes as she ran over and encased Rusty in a hug. “Oh my Starlight, I’m so sorry!!” She sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder, unaware that it was the one that he’d hurt earlier.   
  
Rusty was very unsure on how to take this, especially after what had just happened. “Dinah... It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize-”   
  
“Yes I do!! I know we all s-said ya shouldn’ race ‘cuz it’s too dangerous, b-but I’d never thought something like this w-would happen!!” The dining car continued to sob, uncaring of who heard or saw her. “I shoulda been there for ya, and n-now you’re h-hurt among ot-ther things, and, and-”   
  
“Dinah.” She stopped, then she gasped. Rusty wrapped his arms around her the best that he could, and he too found himself tearing up, mostly from pain rather than a rush of emotions. “It’s okay.” Dinah couldn’t say anything else, her heart wrenched to the point of breaking, so the two sat in awkward teary-eyed silence for a moment that lasted ages


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The worst part about trying to write this fic is that I couldn't keep a straight idea of what train anatomy was supposed to be. The Discord I started this through went with a running joke about trains' safety valves blowing being like busting nuts (insert that Neil Cicierega song here), and I had *tried* to stick with that, but because this wound up not being a smut fic, I decided not to keep it in. The best I can describe them is that they're almost like cyborgs; they're able to process foods and grow hair like humans, but still have the same systems that engines and coaches use to function. I'm likely not going to go into detail about it because I'm awful at world-building and don't have the brain capacity for it.
> 
> Instead I use my brain power for writing shitpost fics. And most of my world-building went to a similar train-filled fic.

“Seems like that steamer’s finally given up on winnin’ the final after all!” Greaseball laughed as he refueled at the engines’ garage, his gang laughing and mocking the fallen steamer. “Ain’t no sign of him yet. Must’ve ran off to cry to Poppa!”   
  
One of the gang snorted hard, the lot of them still feeling the excitement after Rusty’s fall during the final. “Man, even Poppa ain’t around to give a lecture now! Damn Red, you did a hell of a number on ol’ Rustbucket back there.”   
  
Caboose stood by the doorway, glowing in the twitter of fame that came with his betrayal. “Ain’t too hard to take a train down. You just gotta know how to play them right, like a mouth organ!”   
  
“But did you have to be so rough with him?” Pearl asked, concerned that maybe now he wouldn’t be able to work. It did look like he hit the ground pretty hard, after all. “He didn’t deserve something so cold as this...”   
  
“Come on, Pearlie, lighten up! Even you know he ain’t got anymore of a chance in the world of racing again, even if he did win the final!” Greaseball buffed his racing gear as he fueled up. “That boy’s rustin’ problem is too far gone for any help. He’d be out of work in the next year or two anyway!”   
  
“And getting tossed from the overpass didn’t help him any either!” Pearl countered. She didn’t think too highly of Rusty’s racing ability compared to Electra or Greaseball, but that didn’t mean she had to hear him say anything like this...   
  
***SMACK***

Pearl was hit so hard upon her cheek that she was knocked off-balance and nearly fell from her place beside the diesel. The gang quickly grew quiet, and an uncomfortable understanding rose between each and every train there. It didn’t matter who his partner was, whether they were a first-class coach or a freight wagon; he was the boss, no one else.“You race with me, you race by my rules. You got that?”

Greaseball’s eyes held a fire in them, one that Pearl had only rarely seen when the gang fooled around during work hours. If this was what started it, then she didn’t want to see it again. “...Y-yes, Greaseball.”

* * *

“... Hey Dinah.... Do you mind.. if I ask a personal question?”   
  
Rusty and Dinah were still alone at the freight yard, hardly moved from where they found each other. Eyes were red and puffy, noses were snotty and sniffly, and emotions had since settled to a simmer. Neither of them knew why they hadn’t moved from that spot, but neither were willing to find somewhere else to be.   
  
Dinah ran a hand over what remained of her once-perfect hairdo. “Uh, sure, Rusty.... What’s on your mind?”   
  
Rusty shifted, unsure if this was a good question to ask. “Well, I just... Why aren’t you with the other coaches? I figured that you’d be with them, waiting for the final...”   
  
It felt like something was caught in Dinah’s throat. She wasn’t sure if she should answer... She felt like everyone knew about her being uncoupled. “Well... It ain’t like I got anyone to cheer for. I ain’t real invested in Electra, and Greaseball is...” She swallowed hard, fighting an urge to cry again. “... He ain’t my engine anymore.”   
  
Rusty held his shoulder, minutely wondering about the extent of his damage. “What happened?? I mean, I know Pearl’s partnered with him... But that’s just how he is-”   
  
“It’s not just that...”   
  
“It’s not?”   
  
Dinah sniffled, holding back bitter tears. “He, uh... He uncoupled me after the first race... My stars, Rusty, how’d you not know that??”   
  
“Well it’s not like I paid much attention to the first race anyway.” Rusty rubbed the back of his head, still sore from hitting the ground. “After Pearl saddled up with Electra, I didn’t want anything to do with the races!”   
  
“And yet here you are, busted and beaten from a cheatin’ partner!!” Dinah wanted to berate him, she really did, but she held her tongue. Rusty didn’t ask to be tricked by Caboose. And now that she thought of it, she too had believed that the brake truck was a good person. “... I’m sorry, Rusty. I just-”   
  
“I know, I know,” Rusty groaned bitterly. “You all warned me about racing.” Pearl’s words repeated in his head non-stop. He just wanted the night to end. “And you all were right. I can’t win a race in my shape.”   
  
Dinah sighed heavily. “We just didn’t want ya to get hurt, that’s all. And I didn’t know Caboose was two-faced, either... I thought he was a real good guy...”   
  
“Yeah... I thought he was too.” Rusty adjusted his damaged leg. He still had feeling in it, but it felt so sore, so battered. It had to have been broken somewhere. “... I guess he pulled a fast one on us, huh...”   
  
“Yeah...” The night air grew a little bit colder as the two sat in the shadows of the freight yard. What else was there to talk about besides the day’s events? Dinah wasn’t sure of anything to distract them from their earlier traumas.   
  
“This is Control, this is Control! 3 minutes ‘til rerun of the final! I repeat, 3 minutes ‘til rerun of the final!”   
  
Rusty’s face blanched at the announcement. He’d almost forgotten in the haze of pain that Control announced a rerun of the final due to the accident. As much as he would’ve liked to try and continue on, there was no way he’d feel better in time to make it back to the race track. Let alone win the final. “That’s it, then... I’m out of the race...”   
  
Dinah shifted close to him. “Hey, it’s alright.... Maybe you can race next year?”   
  
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Rusty sighed. “My rust seems to be getting worse despite trying to treat it as often as I have been, and I don’t know how serious my injuries are right now-”   
  
Dinah gasped, shocked that she hadn’t thought of his injuries. “Oh my Starlight, we’ve gotta get you to the repair garage! My stars, where’s my head tonight!?”   
  
“Dinah, you don’t have to worry about that-”   
  
“No, we’ve got to get you looked at!” Dinah stood up, dusting off her dress and reaching her hand out. “Come on, let’s get to the repair garage.”   
  
Rusty scoffed. “Dinah, I don’t think you alone can get me there. Besides, I don’t think my leg can get me very far right now.”   
  
Nonetheless, Dinah grabbed one of his hands, luckily not of the side he’d hurt. “Nonsense, I can support ya! Come on, let’s go-”   
  
“I really don’t think this is gonna work-”   
  
“It won’t if you refuse to get up, now let’s- AHH!”   
  
Rusty’s injured leg jerked back in a reflex into Dinah’s wheels, and sent the dining car toppling over onto the injured steamer. Such a sight would’ve looked compromising to any passerby, but at the moment, not a single thought in that line of thinking had crossed their minds.   
  
“Oww,” Dinah mumbled, quickly realizing that she had landed on her knee and just barely missed Rusty’s leg. “I’m real sorry ‘bout that, are you ok??”   
  
“Yeah I’m fine, no thanks to-” Rusty looked up and found himself only inches away from Dinah’s face. His face burned red; he’d hardly ever been this close to any coach, not even Pearl for that matter. “... Y-yeah, I’m fine...”   
  
Dinah’s nose scrunched; she smelled hesitation in the air. “You sure? Your face looks awfully red...” She carefully placed a hand to his forehead. “Gosh, Rusty, you’re burnin’ up! We gotta get you home or to the garage or somethin’!”   
  
Rusty had almost decided on being stubborn again, but the aching in his leg and shoulder proved to be a bit much for him now. “... Fine.”

* * *

“What do you mean you have to go?!?” The sound of arcing electricity was a clear sign that the ‘engine of the future’ was not in a good mood. “Did you forget that we have a final to win?!”   
  
But Buffy was not hearing it. After Dinah ran off following the accident, Ashley had found no luck in finding her, turning to the only other person that would currently give a damn about their remaining friend. “Look, I’m real sorry, but I ain’t about to be bossed around by some engine that can’t compute actually having friends rather than... Well,  _ whatever _ your components really are.”   
  
The components themselves were livid, but Electra managed to keep a cool exterior despite wanting to teach the coach a lesson. “Well. If you feel that way, then go ahead and find your ‘friend’. I’ll share my success with another more willing partner!” As the coach left with her pride intact, Electra struggled to rein in his control of the situation; it was close to race time for the final time of the night, and he was coach-less. Each of his cars offered their assistance, but he turned them down before summoning up a train that probably should’ve been the last on his list of prospective partners: the Red Caboose himself.   


* * *

“I knew it... They’re at the final after all.”

Dinah and Rusty had spared no time in getting up and heading to the repair garage, but rather than finding any repairmen, the two found a garage full of busted and semi-repaired Nationals instead. “This was a bad idea,” Rusty hissed, his non-injured leg just about to give up on him as they rolled into the garage.   
  
“See? What’d I tell you?” Ruhrgold sneered, one of his arms just barely functioning after being reattached. “You were warned not to race,  _ herr _ steamer. You’ve no one to blame but yourself for your injuries.”   
  
“Such a sad sight to see,” Espresso mused, nursing a likely-still-bruised lower region. “You’ve even conned a poor  _ signorina _ into helping you. Doubt you’ll race again, huh?”   
  
“Dinah, maybe we should just go home,” Rusty once again mumbled, even as Dinah sat him down at a table and set to work gathering things that might help to heal or soothe the engine’s injuries. She knew a little bit from having to either help bandage up gang members or even take care of her own little injuries she’d sustain under Greaseball’s “careful” watch. The diesel handled coaches like a beast, even more so when they crossed him wrong. She’d been careful to not get in his way when he was in such a mood, but apparently today had been the last straw... She wished she could find someone like Rusty, who was so devoted to Pearl that he wouldn’t have raced without her had Poppa not interfered in the second heat. She wondered if he was still in love with her despite what she had done...   
  
“And what do you think you’re doing?” The two turned before Dinah could even give Rusty an answer; behind them at the door stood Wrench, Electra’s repair truck. “Do you even know what half of those things are used for?”   
  
“Look, I just want him to feel better, that’s all,” Dinah cried. “He’s got a right to bein’ repaired too... And I know what some of it does. It’s ain’t like anyone else is here to do it!”   
  
Wrench clenched her jaw shut, weighing her decisions as she rolled towards the two trains. “So you want me to help repair him. Is that what you’re implying?”   
  
“... I wasn’t implyin’ anythin’, but it’d sure be nice.”   
  
“I just want to go home,” Rusty yawned. All of the adrenaline from the race had worn off by now, and the steamer was just a smidge close to dozing off on his seat.   
  
Wrench clicked her wheels on the ground before closing a curtain behind her, separating the three from the bitter nationals. “I’m not in the mood for pity parties, but I’ll do it because this is honestly the most pitiful sight I’ve seen all day. Were you both crying before you got here??”   
  
“... It’s a long story.”   
  
As the truck got to work mending whatever she could on the engine (who was “lucky to even still be in one piece”, Wrench stressed), Dinah wondered how the rerun of the final was going. By now it had to have started...

* * *

_ 3... 2... 1... _ Trains gone!   
  
Greaseball and Electra were off on the tracks one more time, zooming left and right through the tunnels and ‘round the bends. As the two engines duked it out, fighting for first place, Pearl couldn’t help but wonder how Rusty was doing. Sure, he shouldn’t have raced, but she still felt worried for him somehow. Even as she exchanged glances with Caboose, the same one who had earlier thrown him from the tracks, she couldn’t help but wonder if he still cared for her in his sweet way-   
  
The coach was rocked out of her thoughts by a sharp pain in her back, slowing her down increasingly. Had she been hit by…? Yes, it must’ve been. Electra had just zapped her with a bolt of energy, sending her internal system into a frenzy as the flashy engine and his brakecar partner passed the diesel and pink coach with ease.   
  
“Pearl!! Why are you slowin’ down?!” Greaseball cursed from upfront; he hadn’t counted on his opponent taking him out this way! Now his winning streak was in danger all because of one silly little coach! With not a moment to lose, he did the unthinkable: he uncoupled Pearl mid-race at high-speed.   
  
Pearl had hardly any time to react before she was sent hurtling towards a sharp turn near a steep embankment, one of the most dangerous parts of the racetrack’s layout. Slamming on her emergency brake with a prayer in her heart, she was thrown off the tracks and went hard into the safety barrier. The ledge before the embankment was a short distance from the tracks, but Pearl had avoided the fall off the ledge by sheer luck. As she was sprawled on the ground for what felt like ages, she wondered where she had gone wrong in the day’s events.


End file.
